I'm proud of us
by Gosutoraita
Summary: "You're dangerous Dean, and I have to cure you. Even if you don't want me to. Even if it kills me." In which Sam completes God's trials and Dean is the final test. Watch season 9 finale FIRST!
1. Guilt

**So, I'm just gonna stick this on here as a one shot (It's kind of a prologue) and if I get some spare time, I may continue it! The whole story is basically my theory of what would happen after the season nine finale, and I'm pretty sure this archive is crammed full of 'em, but hey, let's se how well this does. - If I do continue this, don't worry, I wont do massive authors notes at the start of every chapter!**

**WARNING - Spoilers for season nine!**

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Sam sipped the dregs of his whiskey from the glass, before setting it down on the table with a reverberating tap. He didn't speak the words aloud, but he could hear them echoing in his ears.

_Dean's dead. He's dead. He's dead._

He silently recalled how he'd promised his brother, and himself, never to mess with Death again. After Dean had 'rescued' him from the cold grip of Death, by tricking him, by lying to him, he promised that he'd never do that to Dean. It was hard, but he knew then that if Dean ever did fall before Death, he couldn't bring him back again. This time it was final.

But there had to be a way.

There was always that doubt that made itself apparent to him. That demanded to be heard. Maybe Sam wouldn't have wanted to be brought back to life, but Dean...

Hunting was his life. He'd been raised to know that, he couldn't live without it. Sam, however knew he could have a life beyond hunting, something that his brother couldn't believe. Couldn't even fathom.

Sam pushed away from the table, knocking his chair over. He didn't pick it up.

Now that he knew what he had to do, there was no other thing for it.

He was going to trade in his soul to a demon in return for Dean's life back, and it would work.

He made his way downstairs and opened the 'dungeon' behind the bookshelves. The room that had been home to Crowley...

Crowley.

He'd summon Crowley.

The king of hell would do anything to get him to sign his soul over. That was, if he wasn't jacked up on human blood.

"God dammit Crowley, you got him into this mess, and you will get him out of it or so help me God-" His voice was confident in the darkness. He had purpose, he knew what to do, he could save Dean.

There was already a bowl with the correct components needed to call Crowley, and Sam picked it up with shaking hands and dumped it unceremoniously onto the floor, a ways away from the devils trap. He collapsed to his knees before it. The impact on concrete should have hurt, but his brain was too overcome with guilt and grief to feel it. He was numb, he could hardly feel the match in his hands as he struck it and dropped it into the bowl, watching the ingredients light up in bright flames.

He breathed in the acrid smell of burning, and waited.

Then, there was nothing.

"Where the hell are you, Crowley?" Sam whispered impatiently. If the demon didn't answer him now, he never would. The King of hell probably already had his bloody hands clamped on Dean's soul. It wouldn't surprise him if his brothers soul did end up in hell, what with all the trouble in heaven. Plus, with Metatron guarding the pearly gates, the last person he'd let in would be Dean Winchester, closely followed by Cas and Sam.

The fire burned out and Sam realised he wasn't coming. He pushed off his knees and drew up to his full height. He felt like crying, but he knew there were other options. Cas, other crossroads demons. There were so many ways to bring his big brother back, it was just the cost that worried him.

With Castiels depleting grace, it might just kill him if he were to attempt to bring Dean back to life, leaving Sam completely alone. There had to be another way.

"Dammit!" Sam cursed, kicking the bowl he had used, the ashes scattering across the clean concrete floor.

Sam didn't know what to do. He needed to call Cas, the angel might not even know about Dean's demise... He needed, no, deserved to know.

As he walked up the stairs, back to his room, he spoke, "Cas, I know you're out there somewhere doing good, but Dean...He...he's dead and I don't know what to do." His voice cracked pitifully. He felt vaguely stupid for praying to the ceiling, but he really was exhausting his options one by one and he was running out of time. "I-I'm not asking you to save him, I know you can't, but... I just thought you deserved to know..." His voice faded out before he'd even reached the end of 'know.'

He'd reached Dean's room, where he'd laid his big brother to rest, but...he was missing?

Sam frowned. This had to be a hallucination, he'd had plenty before.

He allowed himself to cross the threshold of the room, scanning the space as he went. The bed was crumpled from where his brother had been previously laying.

"What the..." He sucked in an unsteady breath. He was no stranger to zombies, but this was just weird.

He heard a fluttering behind him, and didn't bother turning to welcome his visitor. "He's gone. He was dead, and now he's just...gone."

Castiel touched Sam's shoulder to make him turn around, "I don't know what has happened to your brother, Sam, but we'll find him."

The angel's heart dropped as Sam's hazel eyes met his. They were weary and tired, and full of grief.

Cas turned away from the young man, and spoke once more before he left, "Metatron has been taken care of, I'll ask the angels to keep an eye out for Dean. In the meantime, I suggest you rest. You look... terrible."

Sam pursed his lips, forcing down a retort and nodded bitterly.

As Castiel left, he let out a sigh. He managed not to tell Sam, and the youngest Winchester could usually see right through a lie. He managed to hide the fact that he had, in fact seen Dean. Alive, and well.

He'd smelt the acrid blood of innocence spilt, and followed it. As he drew closer, he heard Dean, except...not quite him at all.

And what he'd found had been almost too much to bear.

So, no.

He wasn't going to tell Sam that he had seen his big brother maliciously slaughter one of the people he most cared about. The screams would haunt his strong mind for weeks, but Dean's laughter, _laughter _from the man he trusted most as he took a humans life...That would stay with him forever.

He'd murdered Lisa Braeden right in front of her own son.

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**Tell me what you think!**


	2. Remorse

**Please review and tell me what you think, i'd really appreciate it, plus i'd update faster! (Wink wink nudge nudge) ;) **

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"Now, let's go take a howl at that moon."

Dean blinked his eyes open, and was immediately overcome with a strange hollow feeling. It was as if somebody had taken his memories, his thoughts, and drained them of compassion, before returning them to him. He couldn't remember the last thing he did, the last thing he _felt_.

He looked up to find the King of Hell staring down at him with the same hollowness in his eyes that he felt.

"How am I alive?" His voice didn't sound like his own, and he hardly remembered dying, but he knew it had happened.

Just like everything else his brain supplied him with. His memories were there, but it was like they were almost transparent. Like they didn't even belong to him.

There was always a reoccurring thought. The name 'Sam' meant something to him...had meant something to him, but now it was just that. A name, and a face, and no emotional attachment.

"Well, I don't know the details, but it had something to do with Cain." Crowley murmured, but he seemed slightly disappointed at...him?

"Cain...the first blade...the mark?" Dean rambled, memories returning to him slowly.

"Yes" Crowley patted the first blade in Dean's hand. "I would've thought Dean Winchester of all people would be interesting to see as a demon, but I suppose not after-"

He was cut off as Dean held a hand up, slamming Crowley against the wall, much to his amusement. The newly fledged demon looked at his hand in wonderment, the same look he would've worn after seeing Cas cure someone, or when the angels fell from heaven. A look of morbid curiosity

"I stand to be corrected." The King laughed greedily, easily breaking Dean's hold on him and smoothing the lapels of his jacket. "So, will you join me?"

"What are we going to do?" Dean asked, fascinated by his demonic powers, turning the blade in his hands.

Crowley chuckled, slapping Dean on the shoulder, before adding darkly, "What aren't we going to do?"

Before Dean could protest, the scenery changed around him, and he found himself in a whole new state. Crowley must've transported them somewhere.

"The world's your oyster!" He snorted, turning Dean to face a house his memories told him were home to someone he cared-used to care about. "But first, I want you to test out your new powers."

Dean walked up the path to the house, and knocked on the door, though it must've been at least one in the morning.

Lisa opened the door a couple of minutes later, rubbing sleep from her eyes, "Who the hell are you...?" She frowned. The man was definitely familiar. Wait, he was the guy who crashed into them...but he felt like more than that to her, much more. "Dean?" She realised.

"Mom, who is it?" Ben called from behind her. He peered around his mother and saw Dean standing in the doorway...with a smartly dressed man. How strange, he didn't think Dean made those sort of acquaintances. Ben ran forward and gave Dean a crushing hug. "I missed you."

"Missed you too, kid." Dean smirked.

Lisa was the one to notice something was off. He didn't seem happy as he laughed, there was none of his suggestive cheekiness in that smirk. It was empty. Hollow. "Are you _okay_, Dean?" She asked hesitantly

"Never better." Dean grinned, before plunging the first blade into her shoulder.

Lisa let out a pained scream, that didn't go unnoticed by Ben.

The boy looked up at his mother, blood dripping from her shoulder, then to Dean, whose wide smile stayed in place. Malice and excitement danced in his eyes. This was not Dean.

"What're you doing!?" Ben yelled, trying to protect his shellshocked mother by standing in between her and Dean.

Crowley looked on in twisted amusement as Dean threw Ben across the room telepathically, a gift many demons had naturally.

"Why...?" Lisa choked, holding her wounded shoulder.

"Hmm." Dean cocked his head, grin ever present. "Why not?" He slid the blade into her abdomen, and twisted it.

His laughter filled the house, even as Ben clambered to his feet only to see his mother fall, the first blade sticking out from her stomach.

He chocked at the sight. He needed to be sick, and his mothers life was draining out over the entrance hall floor.

All the while the man he thought he knew, the one he'd seen as a father figure, was standing over his mothers' body with the blade in is hand, repeatedly stabbing her.

Just when Ben thought was no way, absolutely no way his mother was still living, she choked out, "Ben."

Her voice sounded so strange, blood was gurgling in the back of her throat and prevented her from talking. She managed one more word, one that Ben wished he could've taken to heart.

"Run."

It was with that word that his mother's last breath rode, blood dripping from her lips. Ben shook his head, still too shocked and numb to do anything. He reached behind him, into the drawer and pulled out a kitchen knife. Since they'd been attacked by the supernatural, his mom had hidden weapons all over the house, thinking that Ben didn't know. In this case, he was thankful.

Dean had turned his attention to Ben, his blade dripping with Lisa's blood.

Ben's vision turned red as he ran at Dean, venomously brandishing the kitchen knife behind his back, and thrusting the weapon with all his might into Dean's chest. The blade sunk in, but there was no yell of pain like he'd hoped.

Instead, the laughter bubbled from Dean's lips again, as he looked down at Ben with no remorse whatsoever.

His mother's mutilated corpse had been discarded in the hall, like she'd never even been there.

The sharply dressed man had stepped through the threshold and into the house, but he didn't intervene. He still simply observed.

Dean pulled the blade from his stomach and threw it to the floor. He hadn't even bled.

"What _happened _to you?" Ben asked, fat tears starting to roll down his cheeks as he realised he'd just lost both of the parent figures in his life.

Dean chuckled. "I just laid off the pies for a couple of weeks and my healthy pallor returned to me in no time, I'm so glad you noticed." He joked, clasping his hands together.

"You're not-" Ben's tongue felt dry in his mouth, "You're not human anymore, are you?"

Dean ruffled the kids hair with bloody hands, "Gold star!"

Ben's expression turned from sadness to anger, "And you...you killed my mom!" He yelled, picking up the knife and throwing it at him, before turning on his heel and running back through the house, up the stairs.

He'd done this before, when he was being chased by those monsters. He grabbed his mother's phone from her room and opened the window. He panicked as he heard Dean coming up the stairs, but managed to scramble out the window and land softly on a bush.

He got up and looked towards the window to make sure Dean wasn't there yet. He did see a brief flash of light from the downstairs windows, but he thought nothing of it. Once confirming the monster didn't know where he'd gone, he ran down the street and kept running until he couldn't see his house anymore, so that he couldn't even see his street anymore.

He slowed to a walk and looked around the town center, which wasn't home to much apart from a gas station, a bar and a post office.

He was wearing pyjamas and bare feet, but there was no one around to question him. Ben found his bus stop and sat heavily on the bench there.

After ten minutes, the late bus drew into its deserted lane and the doors opened for him with a pneumatic hiss.

The bus was full of drunken men, too intoxicated to drive home themselves, presumably. Ben climbed onto the bus with shaky legs, looking up at the driver with pleading eyes. He had no money, and he was hoping the diver would see his tears and take him in anyway.

"Why're you covered in blood, kid?" He didn't sound very surprised, and Ben figured he must have seen it all before, what with having the night shift and all.

"My mom's hurt and the ambulance took her to the hospital but there was no room for me in the back so they told me to take a bus." He lied smoothly, "Please, I don't have any money."

From the nod of the bus drivers head toward the back of the bus, he assumed that was a yes.

He didn't look at the drunk men, but he felt their eyes on him, burning into his back as he walked past and settled in a seat near the middle. They made so much noise, talking about women and how many drinks they'd had, it was intimidating.

Ben rested his feet on the seat in front and flipped Lisa's phone open, scrolling down the contacts list.

He'd picked up his mothers phone for one reason, and that was that when his mother had been possessed by a demon, both Dean, and his brother, Sam had put their numbers into her phone. They could deal with it if anything like that ever happened again.

He went past Dean, trying not to concentrate on the fact that he had just witnessed his mother being killed by the only man she ever truly loved.

It was like not looking at an open wound, so that you couldn't see just how deep it went, or how much it hurt.

He finally got to the S's. Sandra, his mother's coworker, then Sam. He clicked on the name and called, holding the phone to his ear and listening hopefully to the rings.

He didn't pick up the first time, so he called again.

This time the hunters voice could be heard on the other line.

"Lisa? Look, this really isn't a good time." Sam murmured, sounding tired, almost defeated.

Ben had an instinct to crack a joke about how it was one in the morning, so totally not a good time, but he was reminded again of the situation. "Sam, it's me, Ben."

"Lisa's son? Like I said-"

"My mom's dead." He sobbed into the receiver. He'd had a vague fear that Sam could've been turned into the monster like his brother had, but he sounded like he always did. He was just so relieved to hear a familiar voice.

"What! Where are you? I'll come get you, now tell me exactly what happened." Ben heard a chair screech as Sam got up.

"I'm on a bus in Michigan, near Battle creek, but Sam, something's really wrong with your brother." Ben sniffled, wiping his eyes from the tears and looking as the countryside passed by.

"My brother?" Sam's voice cracked, "Ben, Dean's dead, I'm sorry."

"No, no he's not, because he turned up at my door with a man in a suit and killed my mom!" He yelled into the receiver, crying harder, and getting glares from the drunk men.

"He killed... He what?" Sam's list of weird was piling up. All these deaths, and un-deaths were really getting to him. He felt torn apart on the inside. "That wasn't Dean..." Ben heard a car engine start up. "It may be a demon possessing his body, it does happen sometimes. Dean would never have done anything like that!" Sam sounded as if he were panicking on the other end.

"I know, but it's hard to believe that when your mom's killed in right front of you." He whispered, the events flashing in his inner eye.

"You said there was a man with him, right? Could you describe him to me?"

Ben hummed quietly in affirmation, "He was short, and had a really smart suit on. And he had dark hair. He didn't do anything, though. He just stood back and watched everything with a weird smile. Twisted bastard." He cursed. He expected his mother to tell him off for his language, but she obviously wouldn't ever again.

"Sounds like Crowley, and if he's behind this, then I have some work to do." Sam said finally, his answer riding on a deep sigh. He sounded much more tired than simply sleep deprived. He sounded like he'd given up.

Ben wondered how Dean had 'died' in Sam's eyes.

"I'll be there in an a couple of hours, I'm about two states over, just call me and tell me where to pick you up." Sam said gently, realising finally that although he was still grieving for his kind-of-dead brother, this kid had just seen his mother murdered right in front of him.

"Um, Sam?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Thanks."

Sam sighed, "Don't mention it."

"Is it okay if I stay on the phone for a while? I just could really use a familiar voice." Ben asked, feeling embarrassed even as he said it.

"Sure. So, why don't you tell me how school's been going for you?" Sam asked nonchalantly, obviously trying to take the kid's mind off the situation.

"Kinda dull, to be honest..." He trailed off, sounding utterly broken.

"We'll get through this, Ben. Both of us." Sam said encouragingly, but he didn't sound too sure about himself. "I just don't know about Dean. I don't know what to do."

Through the receiver, Ben could've sworn he heard the flutter of wings, but he passed it off as his imagination. With all he'd been through, hallucinations and delusions was just what he didn't need.

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**Well, hope you enjoyed, any criticism or suggestions are absolutely welcome, my grammar sucks, so corrections are cool too. **

**Anyway, bye!**


	3. Greif

"Cas..." Sam greeted the angel that was undoubtably sitting behind him. He'd just put down the phone from talking to Ben.

"I saw him, Sam." He said in his low, gravely tones, "I distracted him and Crowley so the child could escape. One innocent death on Dean's hands is one too many."

"What is wrong with him? Is a demon possessing his body, or...just what, Cas?" He asked, exasperated.

"It's the mark of Cain. I could feel it so strongly, and I only stayed for a split second. The mark has brought him back with a burden."

"Enough of the bullcrap, Cas, just tell me what the fuck is going on!" Sam yelled suddenly, his nerves shot to hell.

"He's a demon, Sam. The mark wouldn't let go of him when he died, and it reincarnated him into a knight of hell." Castiel explained grimly, watching Sam drive.

"So it really was him, that killed Lisa?" Sam stopped at the lights and turned to face the angel, "What do we do now?"

"I don't know. Crowley's disappeared with him again, and I can't sense them. For now, I think you should get that boy to safety."

"What about you?"

Cas chewed his lip nervously, "I'm going to tell the other angels."

"They'll kill him!" Sam cried.

"I-I know, but I don't want anyone else to be harmed. If he truly is a knight of hell, it won't be easy to kill him anyway." The sentence faded and so did Cas, accompanied by a fluttering, and Sam assumed he'd gone. Sam swerved the Impala into a shopping mall's car-park, where Ben said he'd meet him when he arrived. The headlights lit a figure in the night, and Sam pulled up near it, getting out.

"Ben?" He called out.

Ben turned to him and walked over. As he drew closer, Sam saw in the headlights that the boy wasn't wearing anything other than his blood covered pajamas, he didn't even have shoes on. Sam gave him a weak smile, and opened the passenger door for him, waiting until he'd buckled his seatbelt, before shutting the door and sliding into the drivers seat next to him.

"Why don't you try to get some rest? I'll stop off at a roadside diner in an hour or so, I'll wake you up then, okay?" Sam started the car and reentered the highway, watching as the boy leaned against the window and closed his eyes.

He face was illuminated yellow by the roadside lamps, and he could make out blood, even on his face. The blood of his own mother.

Sam steered his thoughts away from the fact that it was his brother that had killed Lisa in the first any case, the kid needed a serious clean up and new clothes. And shoes. Sam guessed he could find the most of that in a service station, since quite a few people, like he and Dean had used to, live on the road, and often bought new clothes on the roadside.

Sam just concentrated on the road, watching the sun rise in the distance.

He decided to bring Ben back to the bunker. Although Dean knew where it was, Sam could make it so that it was virtually impenetrable to demons. After that, he needed to call and warn people Dean had known. If he was going after people he'd known, or been close to, then it was Sam's job to make sure they were safe and prepared if he did. He didn't want anymore innocent people to die, and he also didn't trust the angels to wrap this whole thing up on their own. Half of them couldn't even use a pay phone.

Looking at Ben, Sam couldn't help but wonder if the kid really was related to his brother. Although Lisa had denied it, he could really see the resemblance, it wouldn't have been far fetched at all. And if he was, like Sam thought he was, then he was family and worth protecting. The Winchester promised himself then that he wouldn't let Ben get hurt. He was a good kid, and he didn't deserve what had happened to him.

No kid that age did.

The sun had risen the the point where Sam had to lower the sun visor over the windscreen to shield his eyes from the glare. It must've woken up Ben, too, since he was squinting and rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Mom?"

A cold shudder ran down Sam's spine, the kid still thought he was at home. "No. I'm sorry, Ben." He said heavily, a lump forming in his throat from the heartache.

"Oh." Ben muttered as he realised where he was, "Sorry, I just-"

"Don't worry about it." Sam dismissed as he turned the Impala into a diner-come-gas-station.

He switched the engine off and took the keys, getting out and stretching his legs. He'd been driving for at least three hours without a proper rest.

Ben started to open his door, when Sam shook his head, and leaned in the drivers side window, "You can't go in like that. What size shoe are you?"

Ben looked confused for a beat, before realising that his feet were bare and he was covered in blood. "I'm a size six." He said numbly.

Sam smiled reassuringly, "Just wait here for a while, then we can get you cleaned up."

Ben nodded and turned back to look down at his hands.

Sam slipped his hands in his pockets to make sure he had his wallet before opening the door to the gas station and looking around. To his relief, there was a sports wear shop at the back of the general store, and he went straight there to get Ben's clothes. First, he picked out a cheap pair of sneakers, then the smallest pair of sweat pants he could find, and a soccer shirt.

It came to seventy dollars overall, which Sam handed them over.

"Getting these for your kid?" The cashier asked.

"Yeah, he had an accident..."Sam chuckled, looking out to his car.

The cashier smiled knowingly, "Well good luck with that. There's a bathroom round back."

"Thanks." He said, taking the bag of clothes out to the car.

He handed Ben the bag and made sure no one was around to see them, before rushing over to the restroom and letting Ben in.

"Do you want help, or..." Sam trailed off.

"I think I can get it off myself." Ben replied, rubbing at the dried blood on his face.

Sam stood watch outside, leaning against the door to make sure no one else went in.

Once Ben was done and they'd disposed of the bloody pyjamas, Sam led him into the diner and sat them down in a booth in the corner.

Ben didn't say much, instead watching the TV in the corner which currently displayed the news.

Sam figured there'd be some news coverage for Lisa's murder in a couple of hours, but they should be safe for now. He knew how the Feds worked, and how long it was before they started to release information about cases like hers.

"What's going to happen now?" The kid asked, following his gaze towards the TV. He probably knew what he was thinking. The kid was smart.

Sam jolted as he realised Ben was talking to him. "I don't know. I just don't know. I'm going to take you somewhere safe, though, so that no one can hurt you."

Ben frowned and chewed his lip, "You're a nice person, Sam." He assured, fiddling absentmindedly with his napkin, "But I'm not sure I want to be safe. I want to help you with Dean."

Sam was about to protest when Ben silenced him with a subtle shake of his head, "I know you don't think I'm capable, but I spent a year with your brother. I know how to hunt."

Sam's brow drew together. "He didn't teach you, did he?"

"No, but I watched him. I know how to shoot and what to expect. Please."

Sam shook his head. The kid was too young. He was about the age Sam'd been when he had first got into hunting, which in his eyes was way too young to be facing what lived in the dark. Sam couldn't help but see a reflection of what had happened to his own mother in Ben's situation. Both were killed by demons. He also found himself denying that the demon in question was his own brother.

"Trust me, you don't want to get yourself into that sort of thing."

Ben's face flushed red and he clenched his fists under the table, "I'm already in it!"

Their talk was interrupted as a peppy waitress came over and said, "What can I get you two gentlemen this morning?"

Sam smiled back at her, and ordered two full breakfasts and apple juices. Ben didn't even look up from where his gaze rested on his white knuckled hands, clutching the napkin.

"We'll get some breakfast, then you'll feel better. Food always cheered Dean up." Sam breathed, as if in a dreaming state. He watched the waitress disappear into the kitchen, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Don't talk about him like nothing's happened."

Sam's lowered gaze shot up and he looked at the boy with traces of hurt, "Sorry." He hadn't seen Dean...as he was...yet, but he had no idea, demon or no, that his brother had the capacity for the murder of an innocence. He needed to help him.

The waitress came back a couple of minutes later with their drinks and set them down on the table, turning to Sam and asking, "Sam Winchester?"

Sam frowned and nodded.

"We've been looking for you." The waitress purred, her eyes turning inky black.

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**Well, would'ya look at that. A new chapter! **


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